


I'll Be Here, Always.

by LifeLover



Category: Merry Christmas Mr. Lawrence
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, I love Lawrence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-06
Updated: 2013-01-06
Packaged: 2017-11-23 23:09:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/627532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LifeLover/pseuds/LifeLover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>ficlet for Merry Christmas, Mr. Lawrence.  OFC comforts Lawrence.  Pre-movie.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'll Be Here, Always.

She sits by the worn wooden bed, exhausted yet alert.  Her cool hand is held within the other’s limp grasp.  The world is silent, broken only by the sounds of nature and soft breathing.  The pale moon lets in barely enough light to see with.

 

Worry gnaws at the girl’s heart.  He’d interfered again today.  She’s not surprised.  They both know Japanese, but it’s no guarantee of safety.  She still cringes at the thought of the purple bruises on the chest and stomach, the red web of lines crisscrossing the back from the whip’s bites.  Painful, beautiful decorations for the tanned, already scarred skin.  The beating took place in the mid-afternoon, yet the moon now hung high and consciousness had still to arrive.

 

While she watches, the man in the bed groans and tightens his grip.  Slowly, his dark eyes open.  Relief floods the girl as she hears the hoarse voice.

 

“Paige.”

 

She keeps her voice low, in deference to the sacred night and the other patients.  One can hear the joy in that single word, “Hey.”

 

He blinks.  Moistening his lips, his brow furrows slightly.

 

“Where-”

 

“The medical center. You fainted after about ten minutes. Luckily, Hara-gunso stopped soon after.  How’s your back and chest?”

 

“Hurts like blazes,” he murmers, already sliding back into Morpheus’ arms.  “God, I wish they’d stop hitting me.  My true skill at liasing, I s’pose.”

 

“You know your real skill. And yes,” catching his look, “I’ll go to bed soon.  But I’ll wait with you” giving a small squeeze “until you’re asleep.”

 

“Arigato.”  He shifts slightly on his side and winces.  He smiles sleepily, eyes closing. “Oyasuminasai.” (Goodnight.)

 

“Oyasuminasai,” she replies gently, eyes intent on the still form.

 

His breathing gradually evens and his body relaxes, pliant and warm.  She gazes at him with a fond smile, heart aching slightly, and brushes a dark lock out of his face.  The hand trails down to cup the cheek and her eyes soften.  A helper to all, sensitive and understanding, he was a misfit who did not quite belong anywhere.  She whispers to the sleeping man.

 

“Gomenasai I couldn’t help more.  Goodnight, my friend.  Sweet dreams.”


End file.
